


Curly Project

by evil_ontheinside



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:34:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27125275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evil_ontheinside/pseuds/evil_ontheinside
Summary: When sleeping over at Suna's for the first time, Osamu discovers something about his friend, that leaves him falling deeper than he already was.
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 12
Kudos: 270
Collections: SunaOsa





	Curly Project

**Author's Note:**

> This got a little out of hand and I'm kind of tired but well, I hope you enjoy and there aren't too many mistakes :)
> 
> My [twitter](http://twitter.com/EOntheinside?s=08) is here, talk to me if you want
> 
> Background Characters: Miya Atsumu (short appearance)

„Don’t forget the project that’s due next week.” Chairs scratch over the floor as the school bell indicates the end of the lesson. Osamu raises his head from his arms and rubs at his eyes. He didn’t actually sleep but Sakaihara-sensei’s voice always manages to make him sleepy. He hides a yawn behind his hand as his teacher’s words sink in. He remembers the project, a presentation about some historic event they haven’t even started working on.

He turns to his partner for the project, sitting at the desk next to his own. He looks out of the window deep in thought, the words of their teacher probably completely flying over his head.

Osamu takes a second to look at him. He does that a lot whenever the other is lost in his head, unable to notice his stare. The sunlight reflects in his green eyes as they stare into the air, unfocused. Some might think his face looks just like always, a bored deadpan stare but Osamu can see that it’s more relaxed as he wanders the paths his mind lays out in front of him. On days like these, when the air is humid enough to cut with a knife, his hair seems to point to the sky, ends curling a little as they bounce whenever he moves his head, following the movement of a ball in front of him or a bird flying close over their heads.

“Oi, Sunarin.” He kicks at his friend’s chair to get his attention. His head whips around, startled out of his thoughts at the sudden movement, the hair bounces. “What?” He sounds a little annoyed, probably because he kicked his chair instead of tapping him on the shoulder or something. Though he should be used to it by now, Osamu likes to kick people to get their attention.

“Project.” Suna furrows his brows in confusion. Osamu is right, he didn’t catch a single word Sakaihara-sensei said. “History project for next week.” Instead of an understanding hum or an enlightened look on his face, his nose scrunches up in distaste. “What was it about again?” Osamu wouldn’t be surprised if Suna never knew the topic to begin with. “Himeji Castle.” No reaction that could indicate that he remembers anything. “Isn’t that more geography than history? Whatever. When do we have to present it again?” Osamu rolls his eyes.

Most people think that he doesn’t care about school or grades or projects and he probably doesn’t care as much as he should but Suna is a completely different story. He is often distracted in class, forgets homework or projects if his brain even catches any of it at all. Sometimes he wonders how Suna is able to pass his exams and then remembers that he’s actually pretty smart, just a complete air head most of the time.

“That would be Monday, Suna-kun.” The middle blocker jumps a little as Sakaihara-sensei answers his question, standing directly in front of his desk. Osamu would like to say he noticed when the middle aged man appeared but there is no reason to lie to himself. The hair bounces again.

“Ah, right. Thank you, sensei.” He receives a stern look from the history enthusiast before he finally grabs his bag and leaves the classroom. “Maybe he’s a vampire or something. That’s why he can sneak up on people like that and talks about historical events as if he was actually there.” Osamu snorts, not sure if it’s because Suna got into trouble or his comment was actually funny.

“Guess ya actually have to finish it. Yer excuse of forgettin’ won’t work this time.” Suna shoots him a glare before standing up from his seat. “It’s not an excuse, I just forget things.” ‘I know’, Osamu thinks. “And it’s your project too so there’s no way we wouldn’t do it anyway. Your mom would kill both of us.” The thought of his mother finding out that he forgot a presentation sends a shiver down his spine.

When Suna leaves the classroom, probably to go to the bathroom or get something from the vending machine, all Osamu can think about is the scrunch of his nose and how his hair bounces on the way to the door. ‘Why do I like this idiot?’

*-*-*-*-*

They forget the presentation until Saturday comes around.

Osamu sits in the kitchen, enjoying his afternoon snack as his phone starts vibrating. Three quick messages in succession. He is about to pick it up from the table as the display lights up and Suna’s name shows on the display.

Suna doesn’t call. Most of their phone conversations consist of texts send at three in the morning because neither of them can sleep and Suna decides to drown him in every crazy thing his brain comes up with. He quickly answers, mouth still full of food. He already curses himself for being dumb and answering when he can’t even talk properly but Suna speaks as soon as he raises the phone to his ear. Nothing to worry about.

“We forgot the project.” Osamu pauses in his chewing and just swallows everything instead, promptly starting to choke. “Stop dying for a second, this is serious. I’m busy tomorrow after lunch and who knows how long this will take. We need to start today.” Osamu decides to ignore that a school project is apparently more important than his life and chucks down a glass of water to stop his coughing.

“Alright. When do ya wanna start?” His voice sounds strained and he can hear Suna huff a laugh. “Soon? I’m not coming over though. If we want to get this done somehow we can’t allow Atsumu to be anywhere nearby.” Osamu hums and grimaces at the thought of his brother. The stolen pudding not yet forgotten, not yet avenged. “Good, I’m comin’ over. Don’t wanna talk to ‘Tsumu anyway.”

He reluctantly leaves his comfortable place in the kitchen to grab some things from their shared room, pointedly ignoring his brother. “Why, did he steal your pudding again?” Sometimes Osamu is sure Suna can read his mind but if he could he would probably either punch him or tell him to concentrate his gay thoughts on someone who is interested.

He grumbles while stuffing some clothes into his bag as well as his history notes. “Where ya goin’?” asks Atsumu while Suna snickers at his reaction. He leaves the room and a shouting Atsumu behind and makes his way to the front door. “Ma, I’m at Suna’s for a school project!” His mother shouts something that sounds like agreement just as loud through the house and tells him to behave. Then he’s out of the door.

*-*-*-*-*

“How is this important in any way?” Suna’s head hits the table for the fourth time in the last thirty minutes, a new record. “The only thing remotely interesting is the haunted well in the castle and we’re not even supposed to talk about that.” Osamu flips through his history book in search for some useful information. He agrees, their topic must be the most boring one Sakaihara-sensei was able to come up with.

“At least we got most of the general info already. But we should ad somethin’ if we want a good grade.” Suna sighs, head still on the table. His hair bounces. Osamu fights the urge to touch it, brush through the brown strands that look so soft in the light of the descending sun.

Suna turns his head to look at him. They stare at each other for a second before the middle blocker sighs again and stands up. “I’m getting food.” Osamu can’t help but smile and sees Suna’s lips curl upwards as he steps out of the room. It’s ridiculous but heat rises to his cheeks at the thought of Suna enjoying his smile. This time it’s his head that hits the table.

When he hears footsteps returning, he gets up quickly to rush out of the room, nearly colliding with Suna on his way out. “Bathroom,” is the only thing he says before disappearing in the room across Suna’s and shuts the door behind him.

He takes a deep breath. How can a simple smile have such an impact? He tries to concentrate his thoughts on something else- Atsumu and the pudding incident comes to mind immediately- and splashes cold water in his face.

While drying his face and hands he notices some black thing that looks like barbeque tongs on the counter. He faintly remembers his mother telling him about something called a hair straightener as they walk through a store. He pokes it in confusion before recalling the curly hair of Suna’s mother. Must be hers then.

When he returns, face its usual shade, half of the table is covered in snacks. He sits down and grabs some rice crackers while Suna enjoys his Chuupet. “At this rate we’re not getting this done today,” he says while waving with his fruity snack. “I can just come back tomorrow.” A whole rice cracker disappears into his mouth. “That’s dumb. Just stay over.”

Osamu pauses in his chewing but at least doesn’t swallow this time. He never stayed over at Suna’s. Or Suna at his. Training camps have been the only occasion for both of them to sleep in the same room until now.

Though training camps have always been odd. Suna isn’t a morning person and knowing that he mostly goes to sleep around four in the morning it’s more than strange that he always was the first one to be up and moving. Osamu’s most likely theory is that Suna doesn’t sleep at training camps but it’s still unrealistic.

“Sure.” This doesn’t have to be a big deal. It clearly isn’t for Suna, casually suggesting it but it made Osamu’s heart pound in his chest.

Without getting much further on their project, they call it a day an hour later and start watching a movie which turns into four until they fall asleep, sitting next to each other on Suna’s bed.

*-*-*-*-*

When Osamu opens his eyes, sunlight shines through the open window directly in his face. He supresses a groan and rubs at his eyes. His neck hurts a little and he finds that he can’t breathe as easily as he should. A second later he realises why.

On his chest rests a head with brown curly hair, eyes closed, lips parted slightly, breath deep and relaxed. Osamu had thought that Suna’s daydreaming face already looked relaxed but it’s nothing compared to this sight. There is no tension in any of his features, no cheeky smirk on his lips, no crease in his brows no-

Wait a minute.

Curly hair?

Osamu focuses on the mop of curls on Suna’s head and decides he must still be asleep. He pinches his arm while moving as little as possible but no, he’s awake.

Suna Rintarou has curls just like his mother.

The urge to touch his friend’s hair comes back just like many times before but somehow stronger now. He feels his hand twitch as Suna stirs in his sleep. Osamu reflexively closes his eyes again, forces himself to breathe evenly as Suna slowly sits up, releasing the weight from his chest. He kind of wants it back.

He cracks an eye open to see Suna scratch at his head with a yawn, eyes only half way open, mind still half asleep, until he freezes. He pulls at his hair a few times before hurriedly getting up and rushing to the door.

Suddenly, Osamu remembers a scrunched up nose as some girls in their class talked about curling their hair. When he asked Suna why he looked like someone burned a Chuupet in front of his eyes, the other only mumbled that curls looked ugly. Osamu should have guessed that this was about Suna’s own hair, because there is no way he would ever insult his mother like that.

He doesn’t want Suna to leave and come back with his usual straight hair. He wants to look at the curls, see how they bounce when he moves his head. Wants to touch them to know if they are as soft as they look, wants Suna’s head to rest on his chest again, fully relaxed as he only could be while sleeping.

“I think they’re pretty.” Suna freezes again, halfway to the door in the middle of his room. He doesn’t turn around and Osamu can see his chest move faster than before. He messed up. He never wanted to make Suna uncomfortable but he also wants to tell him, that his curls aren’t ugly or look stupid.

“Ya look nice like that.” For a few seconds Osamu fears that Suna would bolt out of the room any second but to his surprise he sees the middle blocker slowly turn around. His eyes are wide and cheeks are red.

It takes Osamu a second to realise that he made Suna blush. Suna Rintarou, master of the poker face and bored voice is blushing because Osamu complimented his hair. He feels something like satisfaction as a grin appears on his face. “So yer getting’ embarrassed ‘bout someone complementin’ yer hair but not about lyin’ on top of me just a minute ago?” Osamu probably would have been embarrassed about that himself, if he hadn’t been caught off guard by his friend’s hair.

Suna blushes harder at his comment and covers his face with his hands. Osamu gets up and walk over to his friend, grin still in place, every thought about the boundaries of friendship forgotten.

“Can I touch ‘em?” Suna peeks through his fingers and makes a strangled sound before nodding. His head hits Osamu’s shoulder as he tries to hide his face even more, just making Osamu laugh. He carefully raises a hand and moves it through the brown curls.

They are soft, he realises with a smile and continues to stroke through them. After a while he feels Suna’s head getting heavier on his shoulder and his breaths evening out. With a chuckle he pulls Suna with him back to the bed and flops down, the weight on his chest returns.

“This is embarrassing,” Suna mumbles, as he finally peeks up at Osamu, face still as red as his favourite Chuupet flavour. “I really like yer hair like this.” He watches in delight as Suna’s face turns a darker shade of red yet again, completely ignoring his friend’s comment.

“You can’t just say stuff like that.” Osamu raises an eyebrow as well as his hand to touch his hair again. “Why not? ‘m just tellin’ the truth.” Suna huffs and fixes his eyes on something behind Osamu. Maybe a stain on the wall.

“Am I getting the right signals right now? Because I really don’t want to mess this up.” Osamu just hums as he continues to trace individual strands with his fingers until they bounce back into place.

Ever since seeing Suna blush a weird sense of confidence surges through Osamu and he doesn’t think twice when he cups his friend’s face with his hands and locks eyes with him. His green eyes are wide, the curls bounce as he jerks his head in surprise.

“I like ya, Rintarou.”

He stares at him for a second before a smile appears on his face, brighter than all the one’s Osamu had seen before.

“I like you too, Osamu.”


End file.
